ERRATUM

I just discovered that my signboards in Maemi, Huin, and Blue Hound read "Bach Festival Sunday May 27 5PM SLT" instead of "2PM SLT". DUMB DUMB DUMB da DUMB DUMB da DUMB. I had to go round and correct all three of them.

Why can I never get dates and times right?

Nonsense for my friends

I hope to write more complimentary stuff in the future! I love you all.... -Catherine Moody, 2007-5-23

You're a wonderful friend to us, Mykyl,
And I do enjoy hearing you spykyl.
But when you start on mythology
And gossamer-ology,
I'm afraid that to me it's all Grykyl!


On Winning an Imaginary Game of Chess against Alphonsus

Alphonsus Peck! Alphonsus Peck!
Despite your fearsome intellect
And wise grey beard, I do suspect
You're in hot soup up to your neck!
Your pawn formation is a wreck,
Your queen is gone, your king's in check:
It's mate in three. Am I correct?
I'm stopping here, 'cause what the h*** —
There's nothing else that rhymes with "Peck"!


Our dear sister alphaTest03
is a genius at scripting and poetry;
I propose that we vote
alphaTest to promote
To the office of Brotherhood Notary!

Assorted Nonsense

Hamlet to himself said he
in delirious soliloquy:
"Am I to be, or not to be?
Is this a bee I see by me?
A bee? Two bees? ... Or is't just me?
Do bees, too, mock my misery?"


Trochee! trochee! List' to me,
William Blake was fond of thee.
"Tyger, Tyger" starts with three...
Oh, scrap this silly parody!


Wyllyam Blake, he wrote so well,
But I must sai he could not spell.
Nor could he rhime. Have you read hys
"Mercy, Pity, Love and Peace"?


Catherine Moody, 2007-5-23

HelloMultiTool-v6 (hug/kiss/goto/etc)

Of all the things I've seen in life,
The coolest of the cool
Is Jester Spearmann's (version five)
HelloMultiTool.

This small device is pretty neat.
It fits both guys and gals,
It helps you rez a magic seat
To take you to your pals.

If you say "exclamation ping"
And name a nearby friend,
A pretty stream of colored things
To him or her you send.

Or if you're in a jovial mood,
Try "exclamation stand":
Ta-da! You're up on her caput---
I just love that command!

This gadget gives you lightning speed
To fly from place to place.
Be careful with it, or you'll need
a TP back from Space!

But here is why I recommend
the HelloMultiTool:
It lets you hug and kiss your friends!
Aww! Isn't that cool?

Prefabricated feelings in
convenient freebie packs...
I wonder when they'll come up with
prefabricated sex!

Poetry meeting in Faeria Village

Yay! Tonight we had a poetry session in Faeria! There were so many people, and the poems were very good.

I'm a poser!

I was taking photos of myself today...

Today sister Alpha showed me her wonderful new toy called The Mannequin. It allows you to make poses. Yay! You can see the mannequin in the picture below. I didn't do a good job with the photo though.

Life in Maemi

By the way, I had missed out on the story of Tyrol and Pat and me. Here is a draft.

When I was a little girl Tyrol and Pat mentioned that they were thinking of adopting me, which made me so happy. Tyrol changed my life by helping me start out as a live musician. It gave me a means to live, as well as another reason to live. She paved the way to my first performance at the Acropolis, although she was disappointed that she wasn't able to attend it herself. Later on, when we met, she took me to a secret place and gave me an eloquent and moving speech, which was something like what Professor Higgins said to Eliza Doolittle after the embassy ball. It also turned out that Tyrol and Pat didn't want to adopt me after all. I was very sad, and I cried and threw tantrums, like Eliza. I went away for a while to look for someone else to be my mommy.

Before long, though, I realized that it didn't matter whether or not someone was officially my mommy. Tyrol did so many wonderful things in nurturing me and supporting me, just like a real mommy, and we loved each other very much---those were the things that really mattered! It also turned out that Tyrol decided to enlarge her Dominion---ha ha ha!---and set aside a 512-square-meter parcel in Maemi, where she said I could build my house and plant trees and do anything I liked. It was so sweet of her.

If you come to Maemi now, you will see Tyrol's home, a cozy house with an open living space on the upper floor. The red path leads down the hill to the Truth and Beauty Assembly in Taedong (it's now the somewhat-ostentatious-sounding "Classical Music Aficionados" garden). In the other direction is Maemi Gardens, an open-air performance venue with posh-looking lawn chairs, where you can often hear live music as well as not-so-live music. The edge of the grass, where it meets the stage area, is a great place for doing leg exercises! To the west of the stage is the frat house "Tappa Kega Day"---a fine creation by Becky Rawley, a sculptor, photographer, and artist. One day Tyrol had a wild drinking party in her house, which was very unusual of her, and then we made a collective decision to invade the frat house to see what was there. We got more than we expected when we wandered down to the basement! There is some naughty stuff behind the house now, too, but I digress.

On the way back from the Gardens you can explore Tyrol's "nature walk", where there is a beautiful little pond, and finally you end up at my little house. Someday I will make it look nicer, and put in something other than the low-prim freebie furniture that is there now. Tyrol is a master decorator and gardener; the whole area is filled with lush greenery and flowers (that may cause you to walk slowly while you are looking at them). I'm a very lucky girl to be living in this wonderful environment.

Now that I can take care of myself, Tyrol has been helping a lot of other people discover their musical abilities in our world---Saki, Clarissima, Lacey, Naftali. Every time I wander over to Maemi Gardens, she is helping someone new set up their stream. Tyrol plants more than trees and flowers; because of her, the arts in our world are blooming! Her latest project is live poetry reading. It was great to hear Secundo the other day. We want more!

Oh well, my real life alter ego wants to sleep. I will continue next time.

Poetry, beauty, and friendship

I'm glad I managed to make it to the poetry session today. It was at the Culture Vulture Gallery in Tupi, courtesy of artists Ada Radius and Coke Bernstein.

It is always nice to be with Hensonian. She has that caring aura about her. Today she wrote a poem especially for me, about me---"The Girl At The Door"!

Mykyl shared some dark and powerful poems with us. I found it almost incredible that in her writing she could put herself into the shoes of someone else. She has the power of empathy that is ever rarer these days.

I made a lovely new friend too, Jennifer. It wasn't so long ago that I was a silly little newbie on Orientation Island; my mind cannot cope well with abstractions or references to classical literary works; but Jennifer's poems were real, human, easy to grasp and appreciate. It was so comforting to find another person so human in a world where many behave like bots. And ooh, she knows Pat!

Last week Sundai got in touch with me, out of the blue. She had come to some of my recitals before and supported me enthusiastically, but I hadn't known too much about her. She took me to her home by the sea, which was really, really, really beautifully furnished. I was in awe the whole time. Later on I played a bit of music for her. There were horrible problems with setting up the stream, and we nearly gave up, but we got it working in the end in the Brotherhood stagehouse. She is many classes above me but she is really sweet and seems to be willing to be a friend.

My dear friends, I love you very much... (That's three ellipses, without a space before.)

Random drivel

Hey.

You know what? I haven't thought of dying. For a while now.

It's been really nice meeting friends. I want to live for them. Now my life does have a purpose after all. It's difficult being so busy and having so much to do, and thinking of how to earn a living, but it's better than being sad and lonely.

I need money

I haven't posted anything here for a long time. After seeing my blog my friends Mykyl and Alphonsus started their own blogs. They write so well and so often it puts me to shame. Every post of theirs is a masterpiece. Mykyl tells the story of my life better than I can myself.

All my friends are so talented. Yesterday FD made a beautiful collage, based on a bedroom scene by an old Italian master, with a couple of real ferns and a ruby-colored seat in front for an extremely realistic effect. Tyrol made a wonderful garden, Alphonsus has been selling his saunas, and Alpha and Zin have been busy and productive. I haven't been contributing anything useful to the Brotherhood or Faeria or Tyrol's garden.

I desperately need to make some money to pay back my friends for their generosity. I can't help feeling that at the end of the day, the best measure of our success is whether we have created something that people are willing to pay for. It wasn't like this in the beginning. I only wanted to make some friends, and find my family, and live with them happily ever after. But my friends have been spending money buying me clothes and pianos, developing photos to show me, and paying tier fees for land for me to hang out on. I must get a job, earn an income ... I'm not a newbie any more, I can't be lazy and live off charity, it's not right.

I've been trying to learn the magical workings of our world so I can make powerful artifacts to sell. But it hurts my head and it's so contrary to my nature. It's difficult remembering all those strange invocations---not only do you have to spell them right, you also need to pronounce capitals and lowercase very precisely, or your magic will falter. I've managed to train my cat Daisy to collect tips for me, and I have a very ugly mole who tends the garden for me, but I need to work harder ...

Poor FD seems rather unhappy these days. I want to do something for him and the Brotherhood. Maybe the new members will help.

Our crazy magic carpet ride

March 10: Today I met some people at an art gallery. I discovered that some of them had been at my Acropolis recital. What a small world.

March 12: Today I tried to fly FD on a magic carpet from Faeria Village to my home in Maemi. I thought it would be easy. It was only about 12 regions away. But we kept hitting banlines, and the carpet would disappear, and we would come tumbling down from the sky locked in awkward postures. It was a horrible journey.

A few days later FD told me that banlines only go up to a certain height, and it is possible to avoid them simply by flying above 100 meters (or sometimes 170 meters). If only we had known earlier! Maybe now the New Citzens[sic] Tourist Club will be able to begin sightseeing tours.

Sunday afternoon music at the House of Flames

I went to Kurt Jano's (Kurt Bestor in real life) performance today at the House of Flames, run by Flameheart Sol. He was amazing, as before, playing many different instruments, telling great stories, and endearing himself to the audience by talking to them indiviually. He even mentioned me with much praise. That was so embarrassing... Kurt Bestor is a celebrity! Eep!

I met Lehua Lamington, the Hawaiian storyteller. I hope I can go to her next story session.

Louis Volare was great too. I need to learn to play jazz like Louis---or rather, Luigi. My friend Cricket turned up during the performance to tell me that he had read this blog. We danced. It was so nice. Cricket is always such a gentleman.

An unusually large number of newbies wandered into the House of Flames while the music was going on. Maybe they had come over from the new Shelter in Swinside, drawn by the crowd. I should go and have a look at the new Shelter one day.

The Brotherhood of Twisted Prim

This is our lovely female Brother, alphaTest03 Yohkoh, resident architect and ventriloquist of the Brotherhood of Twisted Prim. Actually, she prefers to be called a "Sister".

On this occasion we were visiting a sky cafe which alphaTest03 had been working on. She showed us her grand piano and played Debussy's "Clair de lune" and a famous Rachmaninoff prelude for us.

Earlier on the Brotherhood had an important meeting, complete with office chairs and desks. The main items on the agenda were the positioning of the texture previewers and the management of Brotherhood land. I felt that our members were indeed demonstrating those worthy qualities of trust and sincerity which the Brotherhood was founded upon. My own role seems to be to entertain people with frivolous activities such as penguin-riding, giant poseball soccer, and magic carpet tours. My magic carpet did come in very useful though when we had to go up to Mykyl's sky platform and our magical powers of teleportation weren't working.

We have a lovely little shop in Faeria Village now, next to The Booksmythe. FD made a beautiful calligraphic sign saying "Brotherhood Of The Twisted Prim". I'm beginning to be proud of our shop now. ... Oh, you must come to see the village! There is a pub called "Slainte"---Celtic for "cheers"---where you can play Othello while munching on magic mushrooms while listening to soothing music. There is a campfire and a pond and an ice-cream cart. Yay! I love ice cream.

Today I got a message from a newbie who had found me from the "Writers of SL" group. He seemed to know an awful lot for a day-old newborn. Since he was a literary type, I put him in touch with J1mmy and Alphonsus. My little circle of friends is really growing.

Catherine Moody: the story so far

I was born a confused little newbie on Orientation Island. After some pleasant and unpleasant encounters, I found my way to the Shelter in Isabel, and spent many happy days there. But eventually I realized I didn't fit in, that it was not the place for me. The cat that Midel had given me attracted a lot of attention, and maybe that made people jealous, too.

I wandered the vast, empty world in my little red car and my black-and-gold hovercraft, looking for inhabited places, and eventually I came across the B-Dazzled shop --- then in Daikoku --- where I met Loren Fitzgerald, alphatest03 Yohkoh, and FD Spark, camping at the Scramble center.

Scramble was fun. But it felt like an empty pursuit. I signed up as a member of the poetry guild and attended some meetings, where I met mindserfer, Phorkyad Acropolis, and J1mmy Weiland, who were giving out food for the soul.

The classical music group seemed to be dead; but one day someone posted an invitation to the Classical Music Aficionados group and a landmark to her new garden, the "Truth and Beauty Assembly". I decided to visit the garden, and soon I came across its owner, Tyrol Rimbaud. She helped me start a musical career, and with her poetic friend Pat she was thinking of adopting me. But no longer. I must have said or done something wrong. Now, it seems, I'm left out in the world to fend for myself. A little gypsy girl come full circle. It hurts.

I'm lucky that my kind friend FD Spark invited me into the secret Brotherhood of Twisted Prim. Our summer headquarters are a hidden spot for artists to seek refuge in. Yesterday I met a writer, Mykyl Nordwind, who built a cozy little village with a few houses and shops. Maybe it will be another source of warmth and comfort in this journey through life, on the way to that final resting place.

Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, [lass]: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep.
- from "Reveille" from "A Shropshire Lad", A. E. Housman

With grateful acknowledgments also to my loyal friend Cricket Crabe, whom I met at the Shelter; to my dear eccentric Zin and her hangers-on; to Slim Warrior, Anoron Hanson, Celeste Stardust, Tony Bouchard, and Muli Basiat for organizing concerts, and to Ged Larsen, Seeron DeVinna, Desire Jacques, Alphonsus Peck, and Princess Ivory for enthusiastically supporting me; and to all the other people who helped make my life more livable.

C. Moody, 2007-2-20.

Snow

Snowflakes fluttering down from heaven,
shrouding joy and sorrow in clean, white monotony ...
Solace for a while.

Catherine Moody's real life alter ego, 2007-2-15

Club Extreme

I saw them at the Shelter party
A happy snowman, a furry wolf,
a giant cat, an elephant dancing,
Dancing the night away.

I saw the folks at Club Extreme,
Supermen and wonder women
a fantasy of color, pulsating and dancing,
Dancing the night away.

I saw my friends, the Hellbound posse
Rocking and rolling to eighties numbers.
The drums are pounding, and we're all dancing
Dancing the night away.

The bombs rain down, the flames go up,
Children scream and stray dogs whimper.
But the night is young and we carry on dancing,
Dancing our lives away.

Catherine Moody, 2007-2-15

Kindred Spirits

Ping sent. Awaiting response.

“hey, i like your blog”
“...! You've been reading my blog? Oh wow. Um. Thank you.”
“yes, am interested in thye psychology of SL and your av aroused my curiosity”

Next.

“you know.. I was really impressed with your poetry on your blog as well”
“I mean it was kind of silly verse, but it was nice, tight, and well thought out”
... “your poetry is very fun to read”

Next.

“hey... you can actually write verse
thats not common :)” ... “your lines actually scan. :)”
What's 'scan'?
“come out properly in meter”
Oh, thanks for teaching me that. :)

Next.

"You are a talented blogger! Wow!” ... “So you are a writer?”
No, I'm not.
“well, you have talent to be one!” ... “You seem to me to be interesting.”

Next.

“Catherine, I'm reading your blog; it's beautiful and sad. Your poetry is amazing.” ...
“It [the blog] touched me.”

'Sad'? 'Touched'? At last.
Here's someone else:

“you know.........i was severely depressed for 3 months i bet
until just a week ago or so
and im not one to admit these things, which makes it worse” ...
“..........one reason i started talking to you you had some depression related issue on blog
see...........unless you have it.........cant understand it
its a real very real thing
you cant have a character w depression unless you know depression”

Did no one else notice?

Apathy

(Touch wood.)

Breaking news:
MAJOR EARTHQUAKE IN SAN FRANCISCO
MAGNITUDE 9.0 ON THE RICHTER SCALE
BUILDINGS DESTROYED, COMMUNICATIONS DISRUPTED

“WHY can't I log in? I want my SL back!”

“I'm paying for this, you know!”

“Stupid Lindens! Why don't they have backup servers in other places?”

“How am I going to live now? When will everything be up and running again?”

The Concert at the Acropolis

Today Tyrol took me to a concert at the Acropolis auditorium. I was amazed to see such an enormous hall with so many seats and spotlights shining down from the ceiling. There were several grand pianos on the stage, shining in the spotlight. Kori Travanti was sitting at the piano and playing some of her own music --- I think it was New Age. Later on there was a performer called Heath, and then another one who was really good ... I forgot his name.

Wow. It must be scary to perform on a stage like that, in front of so many people from all over the world.

* I might have forgotten, or made up, some of the details here. This really sucks!

The Garden of Truth and Beauty

I forgot how it all began. Hmm ....

Ah. I have it now. One day, I received a notice from the classical music group. It was written in very fine language which I can't recall or imitate, but the gist was something like this:

“Hi all, this group has been dormant for a long time. I am setting up a new group called Classical Music Aficionados and hopefully we will be able to start holding many fun activities. You're welcome to my new place, called the Truth and Beauty Assembly in Taedong.”

Eventually curiosity got the better of me, and I followed the directions on the notice. Everything went dark for a moment; I thought I saw a colored progress bar appear in front of me; however, by now the experience of teleporting to unknown places was routine to me. Now I could see again; I felt gravity pulling on my body again as I rezzed into the new area, and objects started appearing all around me, grey at first, gradually acquiring color and coming into focus.

I looked around. I was in a garden, surrounded by lush greenery. A beautiful secluded garden with trees in various shades of green, leafy branches gently swaying in the wind, protecting it from the rude world outside. On the grass were a few cream-colored benches, as if placed thoughtfully for the benefit of visitors, but not unnaturally .... not intruding upon the peace and calm of the garden. [very badly written --- need to fix] I wandered around in awe, and soon realized that the garden was quite small---about the size of a tennis court---and that it was surrounded by four walls, cleverly painted to resemble a forest stretching in all directions as far as the eye could see. I marveled at the unknown person who had created all this. Or was it not the work of a person?

Against one of the walls was a fountain, a sheet of water cascading gently down a marble mosaic [inlaid picture---need to find out what such a thing is actually called] into a square pool at the foot of the mosaic, fed by some invisible magic. There are many strange and powerful magics in our world; I have some idea about the direct magic, the type that flows out through a limb of our body and commands things to move about, but I have yet to learn about the magic that can be infused into inanimate objects and manifests itself even in the absence of the one who invoked it. ... But back to my story. On either side of the fountain was a white-colored notice board. Why, I wondered, did someone stick up whiteboards in the middle of a garden like this? As I stared at the board on the left, it seemed to shimmer, and words began to come into view. At last my confused eyes were able to decipher them:

Sonnet

I know not how or why the soul does search
for kindred hearts in lands it cannot see ...

I gazed at the magical words. They seemed to be calling out to something within me. But my attention was distracted by a gap in the wall to the left of the poetry-board. I realized that there was a path of red tiles leading out from the garden. It was framed by two wooden posts, with a banner strung between them, reading:

SLOW!
You are entering another sim.

Again, curiosity got the better of me. I stepped gingerly through the archway formed by the posts and the banner, the border between Taedong and Maemi. I walked up a grassy slope, and when I got to the top I saw a lovely house --- a house I could only dream of having myself. I was tempted to enter and explore, but stopped out of reverence for the owner. There was an atmosphere of peace which I could not bring myself to disturb. There was the sound of rushing water, and some beautiful music being played by some invisible hand. [badly written, must fix] I sat down on the grass and closed my eyes to listen.

Suddenly I heard light footsteps treading on the grass, barely audible. I started up and looked around. I was just in time to see a young woman stepping down the grassy slope to the path leading to the garden.

“Hey!” I called out. “Excuse me ...”

The young woman turned around and greeted me. She was short and slender, dressed elegantly in a black sleeveless top and a matching skirt.

“Hi, I'm Catherine,” I said. “I hope you didn't mind me being in your garden.”

“You're very welcome here! I'm Tyrol,” she said. Or something like that. I don't remember what words she used.

“Tyrol? ... Oh, it must have been you who sent out the notice to our group! How nice to meet you!”

That was my first encounter with Tyrol Rimbaud.

The Yard

When I rezzed into the world today, I found my friends FD Spark and Blu Laszlo setting up shop in The Yard at Honeoye. [details to be added]

I also met Southy Buckenberger, the friendly, double-gun-wielding owner of The Yard. [details to be added]

Martin Luther King Day

[writing in progress]

Shopping for Hair

[preparation in progress]

Poetry at the Bear Dream Lodge, including "The Griefer"

The poetry guild held a meeting near the Bear Dream Lodge Infohub this evening. I was distracted by something else, and turned up rather late for the meeting. When I got there, there was quite a large group gathered around the campfire, seated on logs and tree stumps. I sat down quietly on the grass and listened to the discussion.

[writing in progress]

The Griefer
- Phorkyad Acropolis

He made a black box
It swallowed all of us whole
Then we kicked his a**

[writing in progress]

Catherine's Tea Party

Today I rezzed my house in the sandbox at the New Citizens' Plaza, Kuula, to show it to my friend Cricket. Anyway, I rezzed a couch and a table so we could sit down while discussing the decoration of the house. The New Citizens' Plaza was full of newbies, as usual, and soon some inquisitive newbies stepped in through the doorway (I had yet to put in a door) and started jumping on my bed. Well, I thought, let's be hospitable and serve them some drinks.

The crowd gradually grew. I rezzed more and more chairs around the glass coffee table. I invited some of my friends to join us --- FD, Noelle, Zin; it was nice to see Hooper again; and we got to meet a clothing designer, Blu. As some people left, others popped in to take their place. We had a lively discussion going.

I decided to move my house up about fifty meters, to avoid the noise and also to avoid disturbing the people on the ground. Even then, there were still some curious newbies who flew up to join us. For some reason, many of my guests had decided to come in what looked like underwear. “Welcome to Catherine's Mile-High Lingerie Tea Party!” I joked. “When you leave, use a parachute.”

I was quite carried away. And then ... the inevitable happened. The furniture and tea set vanished. The house disappeared into thin air. We all came tumbling down one after another, falling flat on our faces. I looked up, wincing, and saw a large signboard at the corner of the sandbox: TWO HOUR AUTORETURN.

An NCI Land Officer came over and began telling me off, politely, for holding a tea party in a sandbox. She explained that the NCI sandbox was for newbies to practise their building skills, and that living in sandboxes was not permitted. And neither was holding tea parties. I appreciated the necessity of such a rule, although I was sad that our party was over. It was nice getting to know new newbies, and I think they enjoyed experiencing some of the things our world has to offer, a civilized teatime discussion in a cozy little house ...

The land officer also said later that “SL is not the place for religion or politics”. Perhaps if I notice people discussing those topics, I'll report them to her.

* I can't remember exactly what happened, and when it happened --- some details may be incorrect.

The Librarians' Meeting

We all know that power comes with numbers. A single bee may not be threatening but I wouldn't go near a hive. A herd of elephants is a force to be reckoned with.

There is nothing quite as terrifying, however, as a group of librarians congregated in one place. Large numbers of serious, bespectacled librarians. Spacetime itself warps and cracks, unable to sustain the collective weight of their knowledge. I observed this myself at the meeting today at the open-air auditorium on Information Island.

I was fortunate enough to get this picture of almost forty librarians before the inevitable happened. It was a tragedy of apocalyptic proportions. It left us frozen in our seats, unable to leave, some making typing motions for eternity. As one of us would observe later, "the sim had crashed".

My friends, beware: the librarians are planning to meet again next Sunday!

Chess at Info Island

Catherine plays the classic "Varyoshnikovskaya" opening! This is the giant chessboard at Info Island. My opponent said that the knights looked like Snoopies (from "Peanuts"); I thought that the bishops looked like penguins. Note the white cone and the black cylinder that we used in place of the missing pawns. The black cylinder was almost invisible on the black squares, which gave me an unfair advantage that led to victory. Strategy, indeed.

The Ups and Downs of Second Life

Life is hard, and Second Life is no exception. I feel rejected by most of society in this world. Most people seem to expect me to be a representation of my real life counterpart, but that's something I can't possibly do. Nobody seems to accept me, Catherine Moody, for who I am.

Perhaps that is depression speaking. Really, things haven't gone too badly. Most of my relationships have been very positive. People seem to like me. Why, then, does it hurt me so much whenever anyone says a harsh word? I suppose it's because I'm afraid of offending others. Deathly afraid.

What was responsible for this bout of soul-searching? Probably the incident at the Shelter ... I felt that I wasn't wanted around, that people didn't want me to have normal conversations. Perhaps I should have taken my conversation partner aside and spoken more softly. What did I do wrong? Did I hurt anyone?

I left the bustle of Shelter for the tranquillity of the library plaza on Information Island, and sat down on the cool marble to begin contemplating funeral arrangements yet again. Today, however, there were visitors, and a bespectacled but attractive young librarian was showing them around. She had an air of quiet dignity, and she spoke clearly in complete sentences with full punctuation and capitalization. There was an aura of power about her, and I trembled, feeling that she could unleash great punishment upon me if I messed with her. But I also felt the presence of Reason in her.

Eventually we got into a conversation, and she gave me directions to a coffee shop. [....minor details to be inserted later.......]

Unexpectedly, she offered me a hug. I accepted, and for a brief moment I felt that warm ecstatic glow that one gets from contact with another soul. Then she was gone, leaving me floating a few centimeters off the ground with my arms around thin air, eyes closed. I remained that way until the moment of de-rezzing, when my world shut down around me.

When one is in the deepest despair, sometimes, out of nowhere, comes a ray of hope. And so here I am, still clinging on to that hope, hanging on to my second life.

C. Moody, 2007-1-1

Rez Me

Rez me a sofa, a table and chair,
Rez me a package of long flexi-hair.
Rez me a ball gown of silver and gold
To make Princess Moody a sight to behold.

Rez me a castle high up on a cloud,
Rez me a garden with magic endowed.
Rez me a chamber with pose balls galore
And ban lines and scripted things guarding the door.

Rez me a stallion to carry me quick,
A butler that serves me when on him I click.
Rez me a close friend who's willing to chat,
who loves and consoles me. Or can you not do that?

Catherine Moody, 2007-1-1. Edited 2007-5-11.

FAQ: Frequently Asked Questions

“What are you looking for in this world?”

• All I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air, with one enormous chair. Oh, and someone warm and tender resting on my knee.

• Well, it would be nice to have a job, so that I can pay for that room somewhere. In the meantime I'll try to build a caravan for myself and my cat.

• Also, the Shelter volunteers have been incredibly kind and helpful to poor newbies like me. I would be glad for opportunities to help others in the same way.

• It would be nice to do something creative. Writing poems, playing music, perhaps building if I can get the hang of it. I'm a little shy but I might be able to do some acting.

• [RL: Opportunities to help others. Friendship. Roleplaying, literature, drama, art, music.]

“Where do you come from?”

• I come from Orientation Island, I guess. My earliest memories are of standing in front of the signboard, wondering what to do.

“Ok, but where do you actually come from in RL?”

• I'm sorry, I've promised not to give out details about my real life alter ego to strangers.

“u r a very sexy woman, i can see ur belly button. pls tell me if ur sitting on ur chair or lying in bed cos i want to imagine u.”

• I think I had better be going. * stuffs cotton wool in her ears to mute you *